Escape
by dannonvanilla
Summary: When she runs away from home, Emily Williams takes a train to mysterious White Pine Bay Oregon. She soon becomes familiar with the Bates Family and even gets a job at the motel. After a couple days there, it becomes evident that this town is no ordinary town. Once she meets Dylan Massett, she knows that he is different and is determined to learn more about this intriguing guy.
1. Chapter 1

I descend into the foggy distance with my heavy backpack slung over my shoulder, leaving all regrets behind. Nobody saw it coming and nobody knew that I would actually do it. I just needed to escape it all, the fighting and the craziness. Besides, I'm 18 and can technically do whatever I want to do. Running away from my family is the right thing to do.

My pace quickens as I remember my parent's will be after me soon. They're overprotective, but too much so that it is overbearing. Soon, I'm running down the sidewalk, through the rain, heading for the train station. They will eventually realize that this isn't an act. I have all my valuable belongings with me and managed to collect 500 dollars from the places in my room I've stored my money, so I have everything I need. I came prepared with food as well.

Finally, I make it to the train station, buy a ticket, and catch the 8:00 train. The train descends into the darkness of the night, away from everything. I'm leaving my past behind.

**XXXXX**

The train ride lasts a couple hours. I stay on for as long as possible, since nobody has come to me for my ticket. I just want to make sure that I am as far away from my family as possible. Unfortunately, the train only makes one more stop which is to White Pine Bay, in Oregon. I guess that's where I'll be getting off at. Everybody has already gotten off of the train to their designated stop, so the train is left empty once I get off the train.

The first thing I notice is that the town looks pretty desolate. It looks like it's stuck in an earlier time period, like I've time traveled. The one thing that stands out to me is a old looking motel and a tall wooden, yet old, house standing behind it. The sign by the motel reads Bates Motel. I start to walk over to the motel. Hopefully I will be able to get a room there for a few nights until I become familiar with this town. I approach the long line of motel rooms, which look like their in decent shape.

I peer into the motel office. The lights are off and nobody seems to be in it. I start to walk over to the house, which must belong to the motel owners, because the house is extremely close. The wooden stairs creak as I walk up them. I ring their doorbell which is located on the right side of the door. After about a couple seconds, the door opens.

A tall, skinny lady, probably in her 40s, with blonde short hair greets me at the door.

"Hi," I start before she can say anything, "Um, I just moved to town and ,uh, I was just wondering if the motel is open?"

"The motel? That doesn't open until next week," she looks down, "But if she can put up with the renovations currently being made to it then a room for you could be arranged."

"Thanks," I smile at her.

"Who are you exactly?" the lady questions.

"I'm Emily Williams," I bluntly say.

"Nice to meet you Emily," she pauses, "I'm Norma, Norma Bates."

"Well nice to meet you Nor-," I get cut off.

I hear a voice from inside the house yelling "mother".

Norma sighs, "I'll be there in a minute Norman!"

Norma smiles.

"Why don't you come in Emily? I'll get you a room and get you settled," Norma offers.

"Yeah, ok," I say.

I follow Norma into the house, as she closes the door behind me. Norma leads me into her kitchen and gestures to the seat. I sit down and Norma sits across from me.

"So," Norma looks at me, "You told me you just moved here. What made you come to this town?"

"Um…," I stammer.

I consider telling her about how I ran away, but is that really a good idea? She might report me if my parents come looking for me. But then again, what else will I tell her.

"Well, I kind of just ran away from home. My family is complicated and… I thought here would be peaceful and somewhere where I could escape," I tell her.

"And how old are you?"

"I'm 18," I answer.

Norma gives a slight nod. Before anybody can say anything else, I hear somebody coming down the stairs. A tall, lanky boy, with dark brown hair and that looks about my age walks into the kitchen.

"Hi Norman," Norma smiles.

"Hi Mother. Who's this?" Norman gestures to me.

"This is Emily," Norma begins, "She just moved here and wants a motel room to stay in."

"Hi Emily," Norman says.

"Hey," I reply.

Norma gets up and pushes in her chair.

"How about we go down to the office and get you a motel room? Get you settled…," Norma says.

"That sounds great," I say.

We walk over to the office, where Norma gives me motel keys that are for room number three.

"You'll be staying in room three and if you need anything, please feel free to come over to the house and ask," Norma says with a smile.

"Is it okay to pay in cash for the motel? I was planning on getting a job but I don't know…," I trail off.

Norma looks at the ground, pondering.

"Well actually, Norman and I could really use the help here running this place. Do you mind helping us around the motel? I could pay you and all and you could stay here for free. You know, since you wanted a job," Norma says.  
I smile, "Of course I'll do that. Thank you so much!"

Even though I barely know her, I give her a hug to show my appreciation.

"That's great! Alright Emily. I'll give you some time to get settled. Remember, you are welcome to come in the house anytime, just knock. Okay?"

"Ok. Thanks ," I say, thankful.

"It's okay, Emily. You can call me Norma," Norma adds, "See you later."

"Okay," I say before I close the door.

So far, this whole "new town" thing is working out great. It's hard to believe that I actually just got a job and have somewhere to stay for free. I wonder if Norma thinks it's weird that I ran away from my home.

I pack up my bags and finally decide to go to sleep. I'm going to need it.

**XXXXX**

I awaken to a knock on the door. I quickly get out of bed, pull on my black hoodie and open the door.

I see Norman at the door.

"There's breakfast at the house. If you want some, feel free to come over," Norman says.

"Okay. Thanks Norman."

Norman smiles before walking away up to the house. I close the door. I quickly get changed into nice t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts. I pull my long brown hair into a ponytail and put on some make-up before leaving my motel room.

When I get up to the house, the doors are already open, so I walk into the house. The smell of eggs and toast is strong as I walk towards the kitchen. Norma stands by the stove, putting some breakfast onto a plate. I see a guy, about in his early 20s eating cereal at the kitchen table.

"Hi Emily. How are you?" she asks with a smile.

"I'm great," I say back, with a smile.

The guy eating the cereal looks up and studies me. I give a little wave.

"Hey," he says with a smile, "I'm Dylan. Dylan Massett."

"Hi Dylan," I say with a smile, trying to keep my cool.

He is wearing a black leather jacket and blue jeans. He's scruffy, but definitely hot and attractive. He runs his hands through his short brown hair, attempting to look somewhat presentable. Norma hands me the plate, which is filled with delicious looking eggs and toast. I thank her and sit down at the table, across from Dylan. I awkwardly look down at my plate, debating whether I should say anything or just ignore Dylan. He doesn't seem like somebody that I want to get involved with, but it's too early to judge.

"So, what brings you to our motel, Emily?" Dylan asks.

I keep staring at my breakfast, moving my breakfast around with my fork.

"Well…," I start, looking down at the table, "I sort of, um, ran away from home."

I look into his eyes for approval. His blue eyes stare at me in awe.

"Wow. You run away from your probably decent town to this? You probably just made the biggest mistake of your life," he says jokingly.

"What's so bad about this town?" I ask, watching as Dylan spoons another mouthful of cereal into his mouth.

"Let me just say that it's different," Dylan continues, "It's not your ordinary town." Dylan takes a sip of his coffee and and frowns, looking confused. "Why'd you run away anyways?"

I take a bite of my toast, which is already buttered. While I chew I shrug and smile. This is my way of telling him that he'll need to find out for himself. Dylan raises his eyebrows, expecting an answer.

"Fine then… Don't tell me. So, you working at the motel now I'm assuming?" he asks.

"Exactly," I nod, "Are you working here too?"

"I live here, but I don't have a job here. I do, um, other work. I'm Norman's half-brother. You've met Norman, right?" Dylan asks.

"Yeah, I met him yesterday," I say.

Without saying a word, he stands up and pushes his chair in. Damn, he's attractive. But I'm skeptical of him. He never said what kind of work he did, he just plainly stated "other work". I quickly finish my breakfast and thank Norma.

"So, how can I help around here?" I ask.

"There's a cleaning cart that I left in the motel office. The keys to all of the motel rooms are in the office as well. You can start by cleaning each room," she says.

"Ok. That sounds good. I'll go do that," I say, deflated.

Something about cleaning annoys me. I mean, why clean something if somebody's going to go and mess it up again. Whatever, I guess Norma needs to keep the motel clean for the guests.

I make my way down the motel, get the cleaning cart, and get the keys for each room. This was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time I finish my job, it is already dinner time. Cleaning 12 rooms is time consuming. I make my way up to the house and invite myself in. I don't need to knock, right?

"Norma?" I call.

A voice from the living room answers, "Norma's not here right now. She's out grocery shopping."

I walk into the living room to see Dylan sitting down, drinking some beer.

"Hey Dylan," I say.

"Come here. Sit down," he says before he takes a swig of his drink.

I sit next to him on the couch, awkwardly folding my hands on my lap.

"Shouldn't I be cleaning, you know, since I-," I start to say.

Dylan laughs and shakes his head.

"No Emily. You've done hours of work and haven't taken a break. Take a rest. Damn, I don't even know how you do it… How about we go into town. I'll buy us some dinner, maybe show you around the town?" he asks.

I smile, "That would be great, Dylan. Thanks."

He gets up and takes my hand, where he leads my to the motel parking lot. A motorcycle stands there and is the only vehicle there. I'm ecstatic and know what this means. I've always wanted to ride a motorcycle but my parents always told me it's too unsafe. I take my hair out of it's ponytail and it cascades down to my waist. He hands me a helmet while he puts his on. I struggle to fasten it, but Dylan comes over and straightens it and fastens it.

"There," he says while getting on his motorcycle.

He revs up the engine and waits for me.

"Are you coming or what?" he asks, smiling.

I hop on the back of the motorcycle. My hands wrap around his waist as we sped off into the distance. Strangely, I feel comfortable around Dylan, like somehow if I'm around him nothing bad will happen to me. My long hair blows back in the wind and now I'm regretting taking it out of a ponytail. I wish this ride could last forever, although it's only about 10 minutes until we reach a restaurant. We go in, order food, and start talking.

"So," he says while chewing, "Are you ready to tell my why you ran away from home?"

I look at him, tilting my head and furrowing my eyebrows. Is this what this is about? For him to ask me about why I ran away? I decide to just answer and see if he asks me anything else about it.

"You know how families are. My parent's were overbearing, didn't give me a break or leave me alone and there was constant fighting in the house. No good memories there. I wanted to leave my past behind and escape."

"Families can be a burden. Sometimes you just want to escape from it all," Dylan starts, "Norma left for this town to start a new life with Norman as well. Norma's husband had just died six months ago and they wanted to start over."

"Oh I'm sorry.."I say.

"No, Norma hated her husband. He would beat her and there would be lots of fighting in the house. Luckily, I wasn't there to experience that," Dylan adds.

We keep on talking. I learn that Dylan's father is John Massett and that Norma gave birth at a very young age.

"There's something I need to tell you," Dylan looks down at his fists, "I probably shouldn't, but I just need you to understand something. A couple days ago I found out from Norman that Norma was raped by some guy named Keith Summers. Apparently, Keith Summers' family had owned the motel for a long time and Keith was bitter about losing it to the bank. Long story short, Norma killed Keith out of self defense. Stabbed him to death. A cop, Sheriff Shelby, found evidence and now Norma is doing stuff with him. Norman and a friend from his school found out Shelby had a sex slave in his basement, so they took her to our motel to save her. She's in there right now. So, there's the story…"

Dylan looks at the table and exhales. I just sit there in awe.

"Thanks for telling me this," I say, frowning, "But, why?"

After a long pause he looks up.

"Because I don't think a girl like you should be living in a town like this. Everyone and everything is screwed up here. I needed to tell you that because I want you to know what you're getting yourself into.

He takes one last bite of his food and stares at me, chewing. Something about those words makes me feel betrayed. I glare at him and put my fork down, crossing my arms.

"A girl like me shouldn't be living in a town like this? How do you know what kind of girl I am? You barely know me for god's sake and you start drawing these… conclusions," I say in a rushed but angry tone. I look down, frowning at the table.

"I just want to warn you. I may not know who you are yet, but I have a pretty good idea that you don't know what you're getting yourself into," Dylan says gruffly.

We ride home on the motorcycle and I keep on thinking about our words. I don't even care if he thinks I'm too weak to handle living in this town. I understand that he was trying to warn me, but it just doesn't seem right. Every though he told me about what happened to Norma, nothing unusual or bad has happened to me.

Dylan pulls over to the motel parking lot, slowing to a stop. I see Norma leaning against the a motel room door, obviously upset. Norman stands beside her trying to calm her down. Dylan takes off his helmet, so I do the same, trying to get my tangled, wet hair away as I take off the helmet. He smiles and raises his eyebrows as I try to smooth my hair, even though I'm sure my hair looks a mess right now.

"Ugh, don't look at me like that," I say jokingly, deciding to let go of what he said to me earlier.

We realize that we should probably go over to Norma, so we run through the rain until we reach her.

"Mother! We have to go! Shelby's going to come back and-," Norman starts to explain.

I stand behind Dylan as he approaches Norma and Norman.

"What the hell happened?" Dylan asks.

"Shelby found the girl. He's off in the woods right now trying to catch her," Norman states.

"Wait does Emily kn-," Norma starts.

"Yes, she knows. I told her everything," Dylan says quickly.

Norma nods, looking defeated.

"We should go. Shelby's going to come back and kill us. Come on! Let's go," Dylan says, putting his arm around me to guide me to where he wants to walk. It shocks me at first, but then I realize he's probably doing that so I follow him. Before Norma and Norman can follow, I hear footsteps behind me.

"Not so fast," says Shelby, coming out of nowhere. His brown hair is messy and his blue checkered shirt is soaking wet. He breathes hard and looks like he's been running.

"I know who you work for," he says to Dylan, "Why don't you take out your gun. Two fingers on the handle and put it out on the ground."

Dylan glares at Shelby, but does as he is told.

"Who's this?" Shelby asks, directed at me.

"It's Emily. She works here," answers Dylan.

Shelby stares at me, but doesn't say anything.

"Let's take a walk up to the house. Have a chat," Shelby says, pointing his gun at us.

**XXXXX**

"What are we gonna do, what are we gonna do," whispers Shelby as he paces back and forth.

We all are sitting at the kitchen table. Shelby paces around, pointing his gun at us occasionally.

"Shelby," Norma says, voice breaking, "Nobody is going to say anything. Isn't that right, guys? Tell him!"

"Yeah, man. We're cool," says Dylan.

Shelby paces over to Norman, pressing his gun against his head.

"This is all your fault. If you didn't stick your nose in places it didn't belong, none of this would have happened."

Norma looks upset as Shelby pushes the gun harder and harder against her son's skull. Shelby takes the gun away.

"This is a nightmare what you're making me do, Norma," he says, full of anger.

"Nobody's making you do anything. No one's going to say anything. I promise," Norma starts.

Shelby slaps her in the face. Norman glares at Shelby, obviously full of anger. Before I can think anything else, Norman springs up from his chair, pushing shoving him away from Norma. Shelby's gun falls to the ground while he fights with Norman. Dylan doesn't hesitate to grab the gun. Norman is knocked unconscious on the floor, while Shelby gets out his other gun and starts shooting at Dylan. Shelby runs behind a wall for cover, while Dylan and I stay in the kitchen. I stand by Dylan as he battles against Shelby.

"Emily, get out of the house! You're going to get hurt," says Dylan.

"Dylan…," I say as Dylan shoots several times at Shelby. Part of my mind is angry at him, but I know deep in my heart that I don't want him doing this alone. Why is my mind doing this to me. I barely know him and I'm in this house and could potentially be killed. I don't want him to get hurt and I want to help him.

"Just go!" Dylan says rather harshly.

"I'm not leaving you here. I don't want you to get hurt," I scream.

Shelby shoots and manages to hit Dylan in the arm. Dylan slams against the counter, trying to cope with the pain.

"Oh my gosh! Dylan, are you okay? See this is what I mean. I want to help," I say, quickly.

"There's a spare gun in my room, on my nightstand," Dylan says, trying to staunch the blood flow from his wound.

I don't hesitate to run up the stairs and into a room. Luckily, it's Dylan's room. I slowly pick up the gun, examining it. I hear a gunshot, which makes me jump and I quickly run out of the room and downstairs. I hope and pray that the shot didn't hurt Dylan. Shelby is standing at the bottom of the stairs, pointing his gun at me. I stop but keep my gun raised, pointing at Shelby.

"Wow. Brave of you. Risking your life for these strangers," Shelby says.

Dylan runs into the room, making Shelby turn his back to me and point his gun at Dylan.

Before Shelby can do anything, I aim my gun and shoot.

Shelby falls to the ground. I shot him right in the neck and now his blood is pooling on the floor.

I run down to Dylan and hug him.

**XXXXX**

We sit in the living room while Sheriff Romero questions us. Norma tells him the truth, the whole story. At least I think it is the whole story.

"Mom, I can't believe all of this is over," says Norman, approaching Norma to give her a hug. Norma wraps Norman in her arms.

"I know honey I know," she says, trying to comfort him.

I raise my eyebrows and swallow, thinking it would be best to leave them be for a while.

"I'm going to my room," I say before getting up and exiting the house.

I need to clear my head and get away from everyone for right now. I just killed somebody, something I thought that I would never do in my life. Once I reach the motel room, I unlock it, fling it open, and slam it behind me. I sit down on the bed and put my head in my hands, willing myself not to have a panic attack. That man was bad anyways, he deserved to die.

That isn't what my mind is focused on, though. Why was it that I felt like I had to be there for Dylan, to risk my life and all? I barely know him and I was angry at him from before, but once somebody starts shooting at him I somehow felt like I couldn't let him get hurt. Sure he's attractive, but I know that's not the reason. There's something much more.

I need to talk to him. We haven't said a word to each other since I shot Shelby. I change into a plaid blue button up shirt with a white tanktop underneath. I leave the shirt unbuttoned and put on some dark blue skinny jeans. Before I can leave the room, I hear a knock on the door.

Sighing, I open the door. To my surprise, it's Dylan, who is still dressed in the shirt that is soaked with blood from the bullet wound on his arm.

"I need to talk to you," he says in a low voice, inviting himself in.

I close the door as Dylan walks into my room. He sits on my bed and motions for me to come over. I walk over, but instead of sitting down, I just stand in front of him.

"I just want to thank you for saving my ass out there. I also wanted to say that I'm sorry for saying what I said earlier, I know it wasn't ri-,"Dylan get cut off.

"Just shut up," I say. Dylan looks at me, shocked. "I'm not mad at you, I don't need you to say sorry."

I smile and laugh as his expression turns from confused to relieved.

"Damn it, Emily. You scared me," he says, shaking his head while he smiles.

I walk over to the mirror that is on the wall of my room and start casually braiding my long hair to one side. It's getting annoying and I just need it out of my face.

"How's Norma and Norman?" I ask, continuing to braid my hair.

"They're fine I think," Dylan says, clearing not caring about them at the moment. I can feel his eyes on me. I finish and sit next to Dylan on the bed.

"I like your hair like that," he says, looking at it.

I roll my eyes at him.

I'm taken aback. Dylan, known as being Guy telling me that my hair looks nice? That's not like him at all.

"Are you flirting with me?" I ask, but instantly regret it.

He shrugs and gives me the same look that I gave him when I first met him and he asked me why I ran away. If he is flirting, he knows how to do it right. A wave a heat rushes through me and my face turns red. I turn towards him and instantly feel stupid for forgetting about his arm. I take his arm and examine it and sigh.

"Dylan, you need to go to the hospital," I say, my voice full of concern.

"Honestly, I was so amped up it didn't really hurt until just about now," he says, examining the wound.

"Want me to drive you?" I offer. I'm not the best driver but I really didn't want Dylan to have to drive himself.

He stares at me and smiles. "Sure."


	3. Chapter 3

When Dylan and I get back from the hospital, it is nearly 2 o'clock in the morning. Fortunately, the bullet just grazed Dylan's arm, meaning there was no serious damage done. He has to wear a sling for a couple weeks so his arm can heal, but no drastic action needs to be taken place. Dylan and I say goodnight to each other and I start off towards my motel room. I change into a comfortable t-shirt and some shorts and lay down on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I think about my family. Was I homesick? No, of course not. I feel so much better being away from them, but I just hope that they aren't trying to track me down. It wasn't that my parent's were mean, it was just that they were overbearing. I'm legally an adult and allowed to go wherever I want, so they need to understand that.

**XXXXX**

When I wake up, I realize that it's well into the morning, noticing the light seeping through the thin curtains. I sigh and get out of bed, willing myself to get ready fast. Hopefully Norma doesn't think I'm a lousy worker for waking up this late. She'll have to understand that last night was crazy and I had stayed up late to take Dylan to the hospital.

Quickly, I take a shower and get myself cleaned up. I pull on a black sweatshirt with a white tanktop underneath it, just in case I get hot. Going through my bag from home, I find my last clean pair of pants, which are black running tights. My wet hair is all over the place, so I decide to pull it in another side braid, the one that Dylan said he liked last night. Lazily, I slip on my boots and trudge out the door.

I begin to start walking over to the house, however a black car catches my attention, which is pulling into the motel parking lot. The car pulls over right next to me and as I predicted, the window lowers. The driver is a man, about in his 40s or 50s with a confused expression on his face. I stare at him, unsure of what to do or say.

"I'm looking for Keith Summers. Is he here?" the man asks.

Oh no. He asked about Keith Summers. I guess I have to tell him the truth.

"Um… actually he's dead," I say, unsure of how the man will react to this news.

Surprisingly the man neutrally says, "Ok," before raising the window and driving away.

I turn around and to see Dylan, standing right behind me, holding a trash bag. One of the sleeves on his jacket hangs limp by his side since his arm is in a sling.

"Who was that?" he asks.

"I have no idea. He asked if Keith Summers was here for some reason," I say.

"That's not a good sign," states Dylan.

I nod slowly and bite my lip.

"Did Norma make you take the trash out?" I ask.

"Yeah," he nods.

"Here let me get it," I say, taking the trash from him and walking at a relatively fast pace towards the dumpster.

Dylan waits for me to throw away the trash, checking his phone, which is an I-Phone with a black case. Of course it's black. Nearly everything that Dylan owns is black, I've noticed.

"You hungry?" he says as I get back, "There's breakfast at the house if you want."

"Nah, I'm fine. I'm not hungry," I say, which is the truth.

"I've got to go to work now," he says. "I'll see you later tonight."

"Ok. See you," I say, waving goodbye as he gets on his motorcycle.

I remember Shelby saying something about how he knew he Dylan worked for and how he needed to hand over his gun. What kind of work did Dylan do where he needed a gun? He hasn't said a word about his work either, which is kind of suspicious. I walk back up to the house and let myself in. Just as always, Norma is in the kitchen, cleaning up from making breakfast.

"Hey Emily. How are you?" Norma says, not looking up and clearly distracted while she washes a pan.

"Um, I'm fine," I say. After a long pause I say, "There was a man earlier here today, driving in a black car who came up to me. He was looking for Keith Summers."

Norma looks up, "Well, what'd you tell him?"

"I told him that Keith Summers is dead," I say, quickly.

"Was there anything else that he wanted?" asked Norma.

"Not that I know of," I say, my voice drifting off. "Is there any work that needs to be done?" I hate to ask this, but I know that I should. Norma's letting me live here for free so I'd feel bad if I didn't pitch in.

"No, no not really," she says, thinking. I am relieved. I'm not the kind of person who will willingly work or enjoy it at all. "Honestly, we owe you big time for last night. If you wanted to do something, you could just stay in the motel office and organize some of the papers but it's not imperative. Also, if that strange man comes back, please get me and so I can talk to him."

I nod and simply say, "Okay," before retreating outside and walking back to my room.

I start to open the door, but then I hear a car pull up on the rough parking lot gravel. Turning around, I instantly notice the black car that was here earlier. Before I can escape into my room to avoid him approaching me, he gets out of the car and walks towards me.

"I had a room arrangement back when Keith Summers owned the place, is it possible if I could have that again?" he asks me, raising his eyebrows.

"Um, I think it would best for you to talk to Norma and-," I start to say but am taken by surprise when he grabs my arm, preventing me from getting Norma.

"Do I look stupid?" he asks. "I know you guys have it, so if you would just kindly tell me where it is, nobody gets hurt."

Is there something that Norma wasn't telling me?

"What do you mean? Have what?" I ask.

He raises his eyebrows and says, "We can do this the hard way or the easy way."

I start to slowly back away from him into the open door of my room. Before I can make it in my room, the man grabs my shoulders and slams me against the doorframe.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey Norman," Norma said cheerfully, with a smile on her face as Norman finally got back from school. "Why're you back so late?"

"Miss Watson and I worked on a story a wrote. She says that it's good enough to publish," Norman said. "I don't know if I want to publish it, though."

Norma takes the tinfoil off of three plates on the kitchen table and throws the foil in the trash.

"Let's eat. Can you go get Emily? I made her a plate," Norma says.

Norman nods quickly at Norma. "Sure," he says, putting his school books on the table.

Norman walks over to room three, which he knows is Emily's room. The door is closed, so he knocks a couple times. After receiving no answer for some time, he walks away, back up to the house. She was probably somewhere else, maybe with Dylan. Norman didn't like the idea that Emily seemed to think of Dylan differently than anybody else who met him did. It made him want to keep his distance from Emily.

Coincidentally, Norman hears tires on gravel and sees Dylan pulling into the parking lot on his black motorcycle. Dylan takes off his helmet and puts it on the bike. Norman runs over to him and Dylan looks surprised to see Norman eager to talk to him.

"Dylan, did you happen to see Emily?" Norman asks.

"No. Why? She not here?" asks Dylan.

"I've checked everywhere and she's nowhere to be found. I'm getting really worried," Norman looks at Dylan, concerned.

"Come on. She's probably at the house. Let's check," Dylan says, starting for the house.

"But Dylan, the last time I saw her is when she left for her motel room. She never went back to the house," Norman explains.

"Did you check the motel room?" Dylan asks, stopping from walking.

"Yes I did," Norman responds.

"It doesn't hurt to check the house then. Come on," Dylan says, continuing towards the house.

Dylan and Norman arrive at the house and go into the living room, where they see Norma sitting in the living room watching television.

"Norma, did you find Emily?" asks Norman.

Norma looks up from watching television and a concerned expression takes over her face.

"You didn't find her yet? Are you sure she isn't in the motel room?" Norma asks.

"Mother we've looked everywhere," Norman says.

Norma sighs, defeated. A couple seconds later, her phone rings, displaying a number that she didn't recognize. After hesitating, she taps the answer button on her phone. Dylan and Norman wait by Norma, looking at her while she talks on the phone.

"Hello? Who is this?" asks Norma. She pauses to let the person on the other end speak. "Where?" she asks, worried. "Um, ok I'll bring it to you. Tonight," she says before hanging up. "He has Emily. How the hell did he find Emily?"

"Woah. Wait you see he has Emily? Whos "he"?" asks Dylan.

"I don't know who "he" is, Dylan. He didn't tell me. All he said was that if I don't bring him is money by midnight that he's going to kill her," Norma explains.

"Well… how do you know he's not lying?" asks Norman.

"I heard Emily in the background, ok. He has her," Norma insists, about to start having a panic attack.

"I'll get her," Dylan simply states, looking Norma in the eye.

"Dylan, I don't want you to get hurt-" Norma gets cut off.

"Well I don't want Emily to be killed."

**XXXXX**

I wake up to darkness and try to get up, but notice that my limbs are restrained by a chain. It looks like I am in a basement. A little disoriented, I finally remember that strange guy attacking me and automatically start to worry. I wonder if anybody will be able to find me here and if I will be able to get out.

I hear faint footsteps getting louder and louder as they come down the stairs. The man walks over to me, where I'm chained up and smiles an evil smile.

"Why are you keeping me here?" I ask, pulling against the chains in rage.

"You're a feisty one aren't you," he says, looking down at me. "Let's just say you're my hostage," he says with an evil laugh.

I narrow my eyes at him and shake my head. The doorbell rings, which makes the man look up in surprise and leave the room, going upstairs to answer the door. I barely hear the conversation that is going on upstairs.

"I need to know if she is here before I can hand over the money. Take me to her," says a gruff voice, sounding a lot like Dylan.

I think about calling out to him to try to find out if it is really him, but I stop myself. It's probably best to be quiet now. I hear them talk softly, but I can't make out exactly what they're saying. To my luck, I hear multiple footsteps coming down the stairs, meaning it's more than just one person. The people coming down the stairs is the man and Dylan, which I had suspected.

"Dylan," I say when I see him.

He swallows and tightens his jaw, then looks at the man, handing over a bag which probably contains what the man is looking for. The man gladly accepts it, then starts to open the bag to check if the money is in the bag. Before the man fully unzips the bag, Dylan quickly pulls out his gun and shoots him in the head. Blood pools on the floor where the man lays down, motionless. Dylan runs over to me and hugs me. I put my head on his chest, feeling the black leather that I rest my head on. We pull away and we both look at each other, moving our heads closer and closer. Eventually, I can feel his breath on my lips, which smells like smoke, something that I didn't mind him doing. My parents would be mad about me being near a smoker but I don't give a shit. Dylan presses his lips against mine, kissing me slowly and passionately. We both pull away for air and realize we need to get out of here.

"Stay still," he orders in a calm way while he takes my wrist and puts it on the ground. He takes a deep breath and points his gun at the lock. I jump when he shoots it, but surprisingly it comes off easily. He repeats this to all the other chains and eventually I am free.

"Dylan, you don't know how much this means to me," I start to say.

He silences me with a kiss.

**XXXXX**

I sit on Dylan's bed next to him, as he twirls a strand of my hair with his finger. I look at him, studying his bright blue eyes, light brown hair, and his lips. I'm too afraid to go back to my motel because of what happened, so Dylan is letting me stay in his room for a couple nights. I'm so thankful but a little nervous now that our relationship has progress. Each day, I'm getting more attracted to him.

I'm startled by a ring on the doorbell, so naturally Dylan and I go down to answer it. Dylan opens the door first while I stand behind him.

When I see who it is, my heart sinks: It's my family.

***Hey guys! Sorry for this chapter being so short. More will be coming soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey Norman," Norma said cheerfully, with a smile on her face as Norman finally got back from school. "Why're you back so late?"

"Miss Watson and I worked on a story a wrote. She says that it's good enough to publish," Norman said. "I don't know if I want to publish it, though."

Norma takes the tinfoil off of three plates on the kitchen table and throws the foil in the trash.

"Let's eat. Can you go get Emily? I made her a plate," Norma says.

Norman nods quickly at Norma. "Sure," he says, putting his school books on the table.

Norman walks over to room three, which he knows is Emily's room. The door is closed, so he knocks a couple times. After receiving no answer for some time, he walks away, back up to the house. She was probably somewhere else, maybe with Dylan. Norman didn't like the idea that Emily seemed to think of Dylan differently than anybody else who met him did. It made him want to keep his distance from Emily.

Coincidentally, Norman hears tires on gravel and sees Dylan pulling into the parking lot on his black motorcycle. Dylan takes off his helmet and puts it on the bike. Norman runs over to him and Dylan looks surprised to see Norman eager to talk to him.

"Dylan, did you happen to see Emily?" Norman asks.

"No. Why? She not here?" asks Dylan.

"I've checked everywhere and she's nowhere to be found. I'm getting really worried," Norman looks at Dylan, concerned.

"Come on. She's probably at the house. Let's check," Dylan says, starting for the house.

"But Dylan, the last time I saw her is when she left for her motel room. She never went back to the house," Norman explains.

"Did you check the motel room?" Dylan asks, stopping from walking.

"Yes I did," Norman responds.

"It doesn't hurt to check the house then. Come on," Dylan says, continuing towards the house.

Dylan and Norman arrive at the house and go into the living room, where they see Norma sitting in the living room watching television.

"Norma, did you find Emily?" asks Norman.

Norma looks up from watching television and a concerned expression takes over her face.

"You didn't find her yet? Are you sure she isn't in the motel room?" Norma asks.

"Mother we've looked everywhere," Norman says.

Norma sighs, defeated. A couple seconds later, her phone rings, displaying a number that she didn't recognize. After hesitating, she taps the answer button on her phone. Dylan and Norman wait by Norma, looking at her while she talks on the phone.

"Hello? Who is this?" asks Norma. She pauses to let the person on the other end speak. "Where?" she asks, worried. "Um, ok I'll bring it to you. Tonight," she says before hanging up. "He has Emily. How the hell did he find Emily?"

"Woah. Wait you see he has Emily? Whos "he"?" asks Dylan.

"I don't know who "he" is, Dylan. He didn't tell me. All he said was that if I don't bring him is money by midnight that he's going to kill her," Norma explains.

"Well… how do you know he's not lying?" asks Norman.

"I heard Emily in the background, ok. He has her," Norma insists, about to start having a panic attack.

"I'll get her," Dylan simply states, looking Norma in the eye.

"Dylan, I don't want you to get hurt-" Norma gets cut off.

"Well I don't want Emily to be killed."

**XXXXX**

I wake up to darkness and try to get up, but notice that my limbs are restrained by a chain. It looks like I am in a basement. A little disoriented, I finally remember that strange guy attacking me and automatically start to worry. I wonder if anybody will be able to find me here and if I will be able to get out.

I hear faint footsteps getting louder and louder as they come down the stairs. The man walks over to me, where I'm chained up and smiles an evil smile.

"Why are you keeping me here?" I ask, pulling against the chains in rage.

"You're a feisty one aren't you," he says, looking down at me. "Let's just say you're my hostage," he says with an evil laugh.

I narrow my eyes at him and shake my head. The doorbell rings, which makes the man look up in surprise and leave the room, going upstairs to answer the door. I barely hear the conversation that is going on upstairs.

"I need to know if she is here before I can hand over the money. Take me to her," says a gruff voice, sounding a lot like Dylan.

I think about calling out to him to try to find out if it is really him, but I stop myself. It's probably best to be quiet now. I hear them talk softly, but I can't make out exactly what they're saying. To my luck, I hear multiple footsteps coming down the stairs, meaning it's more than just one person. The people coming down the stairs is the man and Dylan, which I had suspected.

"Dylan," I say when I see him.

He swallows and tightens his jaw, then looks at the man, handing over a bag which probably contains what the man is looking for. The man gladly accepts it, then starts to open the bag to check if the money is in the bag. Before the man fully unzips the bag, Dylan quickly pulls out his gun and shoots him in the head. Blood pools on the floor where the man lays down, motionless. Dylan runs over to me and hugs me. I put my head on his chest, feeling the black leather that I rest my head on. We pull away and we both look at each other, moving our heads closer and closer. Eventually, I can feel his breath on my lips, which smells like smoke, something that I didn't mind him doing. My parents would be mad about me being near a smoker but I don't give a shit. Dylan presses his lips against mine, kissing me slowly and passionately. We both pull away for air and realize we need to get out of here.

"Stay still," he orders in a calm way while he takes my wrist and puts it on the ground. He takes a deep breath and points his gun at the lock. I jump when he shoots it, but surprisingly it comes off easily. He repeats this to all the other chains and eventually I am free.

"Dylan, you don't know how much this means to me," I start to say.

He silences me with a kiss.

**XXXXX**

I sit on Dylan's bed next to him, as he twirls a strand of my hair with his finger. I look at him, studying his bright blue eyes, light brown hair, and his lips. I'm too afraid to go back to my motel because of what happened, so Dylan is letting me stay in his room for a couple nights. I'm so thankful but a little nervous now that our relationship has progressed. Each day, I'm getting more attracted to him.

I'm startled by a ring on the doorbell, so naturally Dylan and I go down to answer it. Dylan opens the door first while I stand behind him.

When I see who it is, my heart sinks: It's my family.

My mother stands there with a shocked expression, my brother, sister, and father standing behind her.

"Oh shit," I say once I see them. I can't run upstairs or hide it, they've found me. Dylan looks behind me, confused.

"You know these people?" he asks.

"I'm Emily's mother and I'm coming to take her home," my mom says in a stern voice.

"Can't we talk, Mom? I'll explain everything," I say in a pleading voice.

"No we cannot talk! I don't even know what the hell you're doing here, but you are coming home. You have no choice," she screams at me.

This makes my tone harden and I start to get angry as well.

"I'm 18! You can't take me with you because I'm a legal adult," I say as I walk over to Dylans side and press my body against his side with my arm around him. Dylan looks at me, his face showing me his concern.

"And who are you?" my dad asks Dylan in a rather rude voice.

"I'm Dylan Massett. My mother owns this motel," he answer in a normal voice.

"How the hell did you guys find me anyways?" I ask, puzzled.

My brother holds up his phone and points to it, saying, "We can track you as long as you have your phone with you, which you do."

My hand fumbles to my pocket where I feel the solid rectangle that is my phone. I sigh, thinking of how stupid that was, to bring my phone.

"Alright," Dylan says, trying to take control of the situation. "How about you guys just come inside and talk."

**XXXXX**

I told my parents everything. Everything that's happened. It was probably not the best choice, but I thought that I should anyways. We all sit in the living room, while Norma and Norman are upstairs minding their own business. Dylan sees me shivering and pats me on the shoulder while getting up.

"I'm gonna go get you a jacket," he says as he climbs the stairs up to his room.

Once he leaves, the room is silent and it begins to get awkward because I know what my family is thinking.

"How old is he?" my mother asks me in a sour tone.

"Twenty-one," I say as I inhale deeply.

"You're not dating him are you?" asks my brother, giving me a small smile.

"Um, it's complicated," I say looking behind me to see if Dylan is coming.

"That guy does not look like good news. What good guy dresses in leather jackets and smells like smoke?" asks my mom.

"Do you have to judge everyone?" I ask her. "He's better than anything you'll ever be."

Dylan walks downstairs, holding one of his leather jackets in his hands and comes beside me and helps me put it on. While he does this, I raise my eyebrows at my mother.

**XXXXX**

My family finally leaves the house when I convince them, with the help of Dylan, that I can be left alone because I am a legal adult.

I quickly get up and go to the kitchen, looking through drawers rapidly. Dylan walks in after me, looking at me questioningly.

"Do you possibly have any scissors?" I ask.

**XXXXX**

I'm in the Bate's upstairs bathroom facing the mirror and combing my hair out with my fingers. It's pretty long, only a couple inches above my belly button.

"Emily," Dylan starts to say, leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom, "What are you doing?"

I continue running my fingers through my hair and turn around to look at him and shrug, simply saying, "I need to make sure that if my parents ever come back here again they won't recognize me."

"So you're cutting your hair?" Dylan asks, studying me.

"It's worth a try I guess. I know it's probably not going to work but I don't have anything really to lose. Besides, it's time to cut it anyways. It's too long," I say.

Dylan walks into the bathroom and stands next to me.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Dylan asks.

I turn and face him, looking into his eyes. Dylan looks at me and his hand strokes my hair.

"Yes I'm sure," I say and kiss him on the cheek. Dylan smiles and watches me as I finish running my hands through my hair. Dylan standing there makes me kind of nervous and I really hope I don't screw up.

I pick up the scissors that lay on the bathroom counter. A grab a small section of my hair and before I can stop myself I quickly snip off a section. I've only cut off about 5 inches, which lay scattered on the floor. I continue to cut small sections until my hair is relatively all the same length, however a little bit uneven in the back.

"Wow," Dylan says, staring at my hair.

"What is it? Does it look bad?" I ask alarmingly.

Dylan smiles, "No… Not at all. I just didn't know that it would look this great on you."

I smile and roll my eyes, turning to the mirror and examine my hair. The length isn't too short, as it stops just below my boobs.

"Can you even it out a little in the back, maybe?" I ask, handing him the scissors.

He takes the scissors hesitantly.

"You trust me with your hair? Look, I've never cut a girls hair before I don't-" Dylan gets cut off by me.

"I trust you," I simply say.

Dylan combs through my hair with his fingers and finally works up the courage to to start cutting small bits of hair to even it out. He lightly runs his hands through my hair.

"I can't believe I just cut somebody's h-" Dylan starts to say.

"Dylan, it looks great!" I say, examining my hair, which looks pretty good.

Dylan gives me a slight smile and puts the scissors down on the counter.

"I guess I should clean this up. Sorry about the mess," I say, gesturing to the masses of brown hair scattered on the floor.

**Sorry about this chapter being kind of short and boring. I just wanted to take some time for Dylan and Emily's relationship to develop further. **

**Please review or comment! Criticism helps so don't be afraid to tell me anything! If anybody wants to do a collaborative Bates Motel story, you can reach me at dannonvanilla and we can share a document to google drive and post it here. I would really love to do a collab story :) **


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